In the back woods of my mind, it still feels like it was just yesterday when we were still friends. If...you can call what we had "friendship" that is. Now, as the first days melted into weeks, blooming in months and still progressing on. I still miss you.
What does it matter at this point what I think of you?
What I felt couldn't have been that great, could it?
Or, was it something else?
Was I on the banks of a fast river?
Was I merley holding on to you like the last leaf clings to it's mother tree?
Where else was I to go?
Where else were we to go?
Certainly not back into the corners, where we have tried so desperetly to forget. Our history books are curupted with our memories' politicians, mixed by the stirings of our mothers.
Oh, darling!
You empty trash bin of a women!
I let you crush me like the deep oceans!
Hearltess artist who sold her soul for pride!
The injustices you have done could bring tears to Stalin.
Cigerettes and reefer nails, golden bottles of father's cure.
Who are you to show your self like this?
Talk your mouth and sway your hips, get everyone on board.
Take em all over the cliff!
Drunken harpie amazonian!
spoiled girl of a brat!
Sleep well tonight my love, sweet thoughts for you.
A simple grammatical mistake.
Just some minor mistakes, and grammar typos that can be easily fixed. Nice work! What was this piece for? A paper, or for fun?
